


if there's a change in the light

by lisettedelapin



Category: Free!
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, Rin is a crybaby, and everybody loves him, extremely long winded love confessions, luckily this includes nanase haruka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 00:18:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2208480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisettedelapin/pseuds/lisettedelapin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been almost two weeks since regionals when it hits him that, one by one, his friends have reintroduced themselves into his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if there's a change in the light

**Author's Note:**

> HUFFS HELLO this fic is an extremely late birthday present to a precious angel by the name of [kero](kerooster.tumblr.com) who i love very, very much!
> 
> um um hopefully i've done right by everyone in this fic because i have minimal experience with writing for free! and zero experience writing rinharu. title from ['at the pool' by kisses](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C4qF51j5DyM). good song! very rin! OKAY HERE WE GO

If there is one thing that constitutes both the biggest blessing and curse to Matsuoka Rin, it is the way his feelings never press softly. He doesn’t understand when people speak of niggling unease, of warmth that swells slow. He feels things in stops and starts; knowing no more than that with each acute tug at his chest, his heart has been weathered raw.

And it’s regionals, when dizzily, he’s wondering if his tears are more chlorine than salt, with Makoto’s watery smile and Nagisa’s laughter at his side that he feels himself seize. Haru is against him, realer than Rin has remembered in years and it’s as his hands tremble at Haru’s back that he recognises the monumental shift take root and spin him into new motion.

~

The aftermath is what has him restless, fingers tapping against his bouncing knee at every one of Nitori’s curious smiles. There’s an unease that lingers with him and he wants so badly to barrel roll back into his old friend’s lives to prove it wrong; but now he’s bared his long rejected insecurities and they refuse to give him a break. He cannot help but worry that beyond regionals, beyond the moment he’d washed the years of bitter rot from his heart and polished his good memories, there is no longer a real place that belongs to him among the Iwatobi boys.

It’s one thing to have cleared the hard feelings between them; but now Rin wants friendship again. He wants Nagisa to buy him strawberry milk, only to take it away; he wants Makoto with all the boundless love lodged in his throat, hiding in his eyes. And from Haru – it astounds Rin how the thought of almost nothing sets the hair on the back of his neck just as sharp as the thought of everything.

 Rin has never been able to hope in ways that take up any less than his entirety. But for all the wild, untrained light in his eyes, he can’t shake the feeling that he is not deserving of the love he has finally allowed himself to hold.

It’s too easy to forget that the decision doesn’t rely on him alone.

~

Nagisa comes to him first, with an emoji filled text message that Rin feigns annoyance with. In truth, he reminds himself to visit Kou more often with the knowledge that she was the one who shared his number.

He makes Nagisa ask him to go shopping three times before he agrees, the tiniest of smiles refusing to die on his lips.

And Nagisa still moves, communicates, operates in leaps and bounds; flinging his arms around Rin’s neck and laughing brightly when Rin grunts around a mouthful of his hair. He tacks the “chan” to Rin’s name as if less than a week ago Rin’s grasp on his own self was anything but tenuous, slipping right out of his own reaches. He doesn’t know how he’d begin to explain, but he feels lighter for it, lighter for knowing that Nagisa deems him worthy of unrestrained joy, of smiling sunlight into the skin of his shoulder.

This time Rin is the one who buys the strawberry milk with the pretense of it being for himself. He sets it in front of Nagisa, watches him convince himself that yes, deviating from the training diet is fine if you’re helping a friend. 

He has to hide the grin behind his palm, press his teeth to his lips at the word “friend”. But he can’t hide the tears in his eyes and Nagisa catches onto them easily. The answering smile is softer than anything Nagisa had managed as a child, and it strikes Rin breathless with the thought that Nagisa is melted gold, a warm heart, the most unapologetic light Rin might ever know. And God, but that’s embarrassing; since when did Rin start thinking in metaphors? So he scowls and throws his carton of fries in the trashcan as aggressively as possible, knocking the side of Nagisa’s head when he gasps and cries out about wasted food.

Later on, they hold up a set of hairclips to each other. Rin says, “for Kou,” just as Nagisa points to the glittery butterflies adorning his and says, “for Rei”.

“His fringe has been getting so long,” he adds, beaming at Rin all the while.

And Rin thinks he understands just fine, how Glasses seems to be so, utterly fucked for Nagisa. 

~

Sure enough, Rei comes to him next, duck-footed and sniffing almost defiantly next to a somewhat suspicious looking Nitori.  

“Hello,” he says primly as Rin approaches the two of them, casting a confused glance to Nitori before resting on Rei.

And he remembers, gut twisting, that he needs to thank Rei. The gratitude winds around his tongue in a way that leaves it heavy and, try as he might, he can’t open his mouth to get the words out. Rei stops him before frustration turns to dull anger, voice soft as he says, “I’d like you to help me train.”

Rin doesn’t laugh at the oddly formal request, at the dot of glitter clinging to a strand of Rei’s hair; instead he swallows thickly before smiling. Rei gulps as he looks to the sharp points of Rin’s teeth. Still, he manages a tentative smile of his own. 

“I owe you,” Rin says, hoping desperately that the words convey his thanks.

“You do.” Rei is nodding, his smile bordering on an odd sort of pride and Rin, for all the jealousy that sneaks up on him in the middle of the night, is grateful that he joined the Iwatobi club. 

He comes to understand how Rei managed to craft his own groove among every one. Hard work and determination have always been the key to turning Rin soft, and it surprises him just how motivated Rei is. He comes to Samezuka with his bag overflowing with books on swimming theory, does not stop training until he achieves at least one new goal every session, returning the next day with bags under his eyes.

Above all, it is Rei’s unwavering trust in him that has Rin feeling like he’s getting more out of this than Rei. There is no hesitance, no flinching, when Rin places hands on Rei’s shoulders, pushes his feet back up out the depths of the water.

He wants to ask Rei how he can hold such faith even after Rin had his hands clutched at Rei’s shirt, all bruising force and caustic voice.

Eventually, he stops wondering. Rei improves and Nitori’s smiles lose their nervous edge. In time, Rin begins to shed his fear of himself.

Once, when they’re in the locker rooms and the night’s deep purple has swallowed the sky, Rei turns to him and speaks.

“Thank you. You know, they’re happier now.”  
  
And Rin knows just who “they” are, wonders when he got to be such a crybaby when he finds himself trying to swallow down the lump in his throat.

“Shouldn’t be thanking me,” Rin grunts, trying to hide himself and somehow look at Rei at the same time.

“Haruka-senpai, especially. He cares for you a lot.”  
  
_I know_ , Rin wants to say. 

“There’s a depth to his heart that a lot of people ignore.”  
  
_I’m lucky to be a part of it,_ Rin thinks as he chokes a sob into Rei’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” Rei says again, sighing as he strokes a hand over Rin’s back. And all Rin can do is shake his head.

~

He feels like he belongs again when he’s with Makoto, beckoned by a nervous request for English tutoring.  He regrets all the awful things he’d thought about his friends more than ever when he’s one-on-one with Makoto’s gentle eyes.  

“You really don’t have to do this,” is the first thing out Makoto’s mouth.

Rin raises an eyebrow and flicks him on the arm, isn’t quite ready to tell him he missed him.  

It doesn’t take long for Rin to realise that he’s lost the ability to read Makoto. He communicates primarily in smiles; Haru is a master of deconstructing them and it’s with excitement and a new nervous energy that Rin realises he’ll have to relearn each one.

Despite that, it's surprisingly easy to fall back into step with him. Though later, Rin still feels winded when, after laughing for a solid five minutes at Makoto’s English pronunciation, Makoto directs all the kindness in the world to him in a simple curve of his lips.

And how could he forget that Makoto is lethal with his specific brand of slow burning benevolence, with his palms so wide for all the compassion he holds.

In that moment, Rin vows to himself that he will recognise when Makoto’s voice is brittle, when the upturn of his mouth looks like it’s hurting himself.

The space between them is oddly tense when quietly, Makoto asks, “How was Australia?”

“Weird,” Rin says, without missing a beat. “They taught Japanese at the school I went to.” 

Makoto’s eyebrows shoot up at that, looking thoroughly impressed until Rin adds: “Their Japanese was pretty awful compared to your English.” 

Makoto chuckles now, a low warm sound that makes Rin let out a soft laugh of his own.  “Is the English we learn the same as the way they actually speak it?”  
  
Rin shakes his head, frowning. “I don’t know if this is just Australia, but it was a lot less formal. Also, it was so confusing. People would contradict themselves all the time, kept saying things like—“, he takes a deep breath. “Yeah nah, nah yeah.”  
  
Makoto’s grimace is priceless. “What is that supposed to mean?” He whispers.

Rin blows his hair out his eyes, shrugging before his eyes widen and suddenly, he leans in closer. “Also a lot of people call each other ‘mate’.”

“Mate,” Makoto repeats. “Like teammate!” 

Rin feels his ears warm.

~

It’s been almost two weeks since regionals when it hits him that, one by one, his friends have reintroduced themselves into his life. The realisation comes with a new kind of itching hollowness when Rin thinks of Haru.

Which is often. Damn him.

Rin knows he has to suck it up; owes it to both of them to get off his ass and go to Haru.  He’s already left it too long and now he worries because he knows Haru’s thought process occurs in direct steps of cause and effect. It’s too neat to consider misinterpretations; sequenced so logically that whether or not the conclusion itself is illogical becomes altogether irrelevant.

Haru’s version of confrontation was regionals. That was his step forward, his way of leaving himself open.

And Rin has never doubted his ability to twist Haru’s smooth judgment, to overthrow the balance and get a rise out of him. Now, all that leads Rin to is the fear that his silence might accidentally corrode Haru’s faith in himself. It has him sick to his stomach, shuddering with the idea of doing even more damage. 

~

It’s one day and two weeks after regionals when Rin shoves his feet in his sneakers and catches a train. It feels too tight in there; narrow enough that he can’t shake the feeling that every passenger is playing witness to all his fears and doubts, watching as he wrings his hands and chews at his lip.  

He gets off one stop early, tries to set his feet down as loud as possible on the platform and checks Makoto’s hastily scrawled directions once before setting out. He jogs the entire way so he doesn’t have to dwell on the fact that he didn’t need the directions at all; still knows where to turn without glancing at a single street sign.

When he arrives at Haru’s house, he has to press his forehead to the cool surface of the door and breathe before he knocks. The waiting time is the worst, it registers like physical space he can’t cross; leaves him with his palms sweating as his heart pounds in his ears. It’s not that he wants to turn back. If anything, he wants to kick down the door and launch himself in. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t get the chance. Haru opens the door, his eyes widening when he sees Rin and the reaction is so simple that all of Rin’s nerves and courage and fight fizzle right out of him. He feels his shoulders sag, his breath catching in his throat as Haru tilts his head, still quietly surprised.

“Can I come in?” Rin asks, voice wavering even as he commands all the volume he can muster.

Haru is stepping aside before Rin even finishes the request. He keeps his arms loose at his side while they watch each other and there are too many places that Rin could start; they muddle up and hide so all he has is fragmented thoughts that he can’t quite fashion into full sentences.

“Where are your parents?” He says instead, looking away so he's got a better shot at collecting himself.

“Interstate,” Haru replies. And his cool voice is everything Rin needs in that moment, just as much as it sets him further on edge. “You’re nervous?” Haru adds.

Rin manages a ragged laugh as he looks right at Haru’s eyes; wills himself to find challenge in the opaque blue. “Perceptive,” he says, scowling.   
  
He regrets it when he looks at Haru and sees him trying to understand, his brows furrowing as his lips part. It makes Rin want to hit himself.  _When_ , he wonders, just when will he be able to converse with Haru without being a dick?

And then there’s just panic as he considers the fact that  _when_ could be  _never_ if today he dries up all his chances. Stomach dropping, he moves to grasp Haru’s wrists, tries to loosen his grip before he even reaches him. 

Haru stares down at their hands like he’s measuring the touch until Rin speaks again, gulping down any ferocity so his voice comes slightly pathetic.

“Didn’t want you to think I was avoiding you…or anything like that.”

“Why would I think that?” Haru asks.

With a pang to his chest, Rin hopes that the bitter edge to the question is imagined.   
  
He lets go of Haru’s wrists, takes a step closer and tries to look like the cut space doesn’t intimidate him in the slightest. “And I thought I should say sor—“ 

“We moved past this,” Haru mutters, looking slightly uncomfortable and Rin doubts himself all over again.

“Yeah, but regionals…that wasn’t—“ He runs a hand over his face before continuing. “That wasn’t enough. I just needed to make sure that…” 

Rin groans now, wishing there was a wall in front of them that he could knock his head against. “I wanted to check that beyond swimming we’re still a part of one another’s lives?” He watches Haru’s eyes widen again, tries to ignore the feeling that he might piss himself right now and huffs in a breath; reminds himself that he’s already opened up halfway. “I fucked up so bad, Haru. I-I would’ve willingly let you out of my life and I’m trying so hard to figure out how to say that now I’d like to be a part of yours and—“ A deep stutter of a breath.  “And god um, I want you here, too? Shit, okay…”

Haru stares at him, stunned and unblinking and Rin hopes to God that he figures out how to handle this. A few seconds pass and finally Haru sighs – a soft sound that draws out his mouth in the same deliberate manner as the dropping of his gaze and Rin kind of wants to pry open Haru’s mouth. Or at least sew his own mouth shut.

But then Haru surprises him, looking back up and fixing Rin with the clarity only he possesses. He takes a second, as if to gather his thoughts. “There isn’t much that places above swimming.”  
  
Rin curses under his breath, trying to ward off the sting as he gets ready to turn around and march right out. He’s already trying to work new distance between them until Haru grabs him by the shoulders.

He’s frowning, confused now. “The ones I’d actively want to swim with – care about swimming with – they’re the people I want in my life. I wouldn’t want to lose you.” 

It feels like the air as been vacuumed right out of Rin; immediately, he sags under Haru’s hands. His pulse feels foreign to him now, loud and wholly unsteady with how relieved he is. When tentatively, Haru releases him, he stays put.

But Rin has always been one to push further than what he gets and whatever relief he feels is momentary when the thought of more rises, unbidden. When he tries to swallow it down and the press grows only more insistent, he looks to Haru to remind himself that yes, confessing would be worth his pride. 

On shaky legs, he steels himself. Haru is looking away again and for however pretty his inky hair is; Rin wishes he could see his face. “Okay but also, the way I feel about you is…it’s um, it’s different to the way you care about Nagisa and Rei and even Makoto…”

“How so?”  
  
He’s got that look again, like he’s trying so hard to understand and Rin hopes that it’s just him projecting when he finds a touch of fear in the furrow of Haru’s brows.  It occurs to Rin that Haru might have no idea he’s just asked Rin to explain how love feels. And Rin is sweating now because how the  _fuck_ is he supposed to do that? 

Rin wishes, more than anything, he’d prepared a speech for himself. Winging it has never been his strong suit. “You turn me into a total loser.”

“You’re not a loser,” comes Haru’s voice, immediately, just as Rin shakes his head and continues speaking.

“Every time I think about you I want to punch myself in the face. It’s happening right now. It’s like…it’s like um—”

“That sounds worrying.”  
  
“Would you please be quiet and let me explain,” Rin hisses.

Haru shuts his mouth and stares; the picture of concentration. Finally, Rin blows his breath out between his teeth and continues. He raises a hand to about the height of his eye. “This is where Makoto and everyone else is,” He says, leveling Haru with a pointed look. “And this,” he adds, while stretching his other arm out as far as he can manage, “This is where you are.” 

Haru only raises a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
“It’s a scale of the extent to which people can affect me. Notice how I can’t reach any higher than where I placed you, you  _noodle_.” 

“Affect you how?” Haru looks serious now, like he’s hanging on for Rin’s words, already willing to weigh them and it has Rin even more nervous. 

He brings both his arms down so he can cross them over his chest, like it’ll alleviate the tightening somehow. “There isn’t anything you do that I can just…that I can just be completely indifferent to. God, you get under my skin so much whenever I’m with you, Haru. And then when I’m away from you I actually miss the feeling. It’s fucking ridiculous.” He swallows, feels lighter with the loss of his words and so much heavier with all possible outcomes. “Do you get what I’m saying? Is it anything like that for you?” 

“Are you trying to confess to me right now?” Haru winces.

“Can you not answer my question with another question? That’s rude,” Rin bites back, the gravel returning to his voice.

“Whenever the girls go to Makoto, they approach this pretty differently.” 

“I swear to God,  _Haruka—_ “

He’s about to curse the ground Haru walks on; ready to stomp past the entryway with his shoes left on just to spite the impossible boy in front of him. He’s ready to cry from pure frustration at the fact that if this was a drama, Haru would’ve been in his arms and kissing him chastely like ten minutes ago.

And he forgets all of it, brain promptly short-circuiting, when Haru reaches out to him. His fingers are painfully light as they smooth across the crease of Rin’s frown and just like that, Rin sucks in every thought he’s ever had with a sharp intake of breath.

“I want to do that every time I see you. I don’t necessarily like wanting to…but I always do,” Haru says, softly.

“O-okay,” Rin squeaks, too far gone to even manage triumph at the flush of Haru’s cheeks. 

Haru doesn’t move, but he slides his hand down so it rests against Rin’s jaw, still light in a way that is so painstakingly delicate. It’s overwhelming when Rin meets Haru’s eyes, finding a new kind of confusion that he understands perfectly because God, he feels it too; knows that sensation like its roots lie in his chest alone. He can feel the warmth of tears forming in his eyes and he can’t even bring himself to wipe them away, lest he disturb whatever is building between them right now.

“If you knew I was confessing, why’d you make me talk for so long?” He asks, voice cracking where he chokes on the thickness of his own emotion.

Haru’s fingers twitch slightly. “I misjudged with you once…I didn’t want to again.”

And Rin is shaking now with the realisation that it’s going to take a long time for Haru to stop worrying about damaging him. 

 _We’ll get there_ , he tells himself just as Haru’s gaze flickers briefly downwards.

“I like you more than anyone else.” All Rin can manage now is a whisper. He’s never been so wary of volume in his life.

It's enough, it has to be; because Haru looks like he understands when he hooks his hand around the back of Rin’s neck and drags him down so their faces are level. The look on his face is all curiosity, like a thought has just occurred to him. And when he ducks his nose against Rin’s, when he presses their lips together; the touch is testing and gentle and the most jarring counterpoint to Rin’s jackhammer of a heart. 

They pull away after a moment, only a fraction though, and this is still closer than Rin remembers them ever being beyond the kiss. His head spins at the fact that he’s referring to a  _kiss_ between them in past tense, that this is an actual thing that actually just happened. 

That is precisely when the dam breaks and Rin finds himself completely unashamed as he sniffs unattractively and the tears start to fall.

“Please don’t cry,” Haru says, even as he touches his lips to the now wet height of Rin’s cheekbone.

“M’not,” Rin replies, reaching for Haru’s face so he can gasp against his mouth. And Haru is the one to kiss him again and again, as if the longer they do this, the less surreal it will become. 

They break apart only to press their foreheads together.

Rin glances at Haru’s fingers, still cupped around his jaw. “Handsy,” he mutters, voice wavering with the way his throat still feels raw with emotion.

“Speak for yourself.”   
  
Rin simply grins when Haru reaches back with his free hand to cover Rin’s fingers, splayed against Haru’s hip. 

“You smell weird,” Haru adds just as Rin shifts to rest his head on Haru’s shoulder.

“It’s Old Spice.” 

“Weird,” Haru repeats.

“Fuck off, it’s the Champion edition. I smell amazing,” Rin grumbles, nuzzling at the skin of Haru’s neck.

Haru breathes out a whisper of a laugh at that and Rin berates himself for having missed the smile that might be pulling at Haru’s lips. 

"We should go swimming," Haru says after some time.

Rin nods, wonders how he might suggest a date. “Could we maybe um…dinner? I’m starving, I mean. Let’s get dinner.”

"There’s a new seafood restaurant. Nagisa said they have a mackerel special."  
  
Rin’s too happy to even bother grousing about lack of meat; already prepared to tug Haru outside as he wonders if the restaurant will be candlelit.

And he feels dizzy with the ease between them. It’s amazing how everything shifts with the beginnings of being right when Haru is with him like this. Honestly, he’d brave himself and all that boils inside him countless times over to keep it intact.

Really, it’s daunting how they’ve spun the very earth underneath them; yet in this moment, Rin isn’t afraid in the slightest. That in itself chills his entire being with fright and wonder and so many other emotions that he never knew could meet and make a home in one person’s body. But maybe he’s had practice; maybe his ribs have shifted to make room over the years. Rin’s feelings have always been monumental after all, and this is no exception.

**Author's Note:**

> rIN WEARS OLD SPICE AND YOU CAN'T TELL ME OTHERWISE


End file.
